Chapter Text
Solari encampments were usually easy to avoid, located further down the mountains and closer to the rich valleys between peaks and ridges, directly opposite from the Lunari, who found caves and plateaus to inhabit further up the mountains, in a bid to be closer to the stars. Given this distance, Solari and Lunari should not meet- but the Solari wanted all of the Lunari exterminated and the Lunari needed to venture downwards for food and supplies at times. Or, in Aphelios' case, in search of a missing Aspect of the Moon. And so, the two factions of Targon clashed more frequently than preferred.
For poor Aphelios, it seemed like he was running across Solari every week now. Encampments would spring up in areas he'd been before that were once devoid of people, he'd stumble across a scouting party, or, more frequently, a hunting party would catch up to him. They'd been sending more and more people after him lately, enough to have him worried that he was now endangering his Aspect. It also had him feeling stretched thin, unable to linger and truly rest on this endless journey. He could barely even find time to eat, let alone imbibe noctum. His dear wolverine was good at sniffing the Solari hunters out, a blessed early warning system that had saved them both more times than Aphelios could count, but sometimes there was no avoiding it.
Aphelios coughed, leaning against the trunk of a bare oak as he clutched his bleeding arm. There were two Solari hunters left from this party of four, and the wounds on his left leg from the last batch of hunters were throbbing in time with his heart. Even through the waning of the noctum he could feel the stabbing pain of reopened cuts. From behind the tree, he could hear his wolverine's low growling. It'd been getting harder and harder to keep his beloved companion from joining in on these skirmishes, and now…
He shook his head, banishing the thoughts of falling before his dear friend. Just as he refused to let the wolverine endanger himself, so too would he do anything not to hurt the beast, physically or emotionally. He'd fight off these Solari, then take refuge further up the mountain until his wounds healed properly.
Except he could barely move his wounded leg- the pain and exhaustion and damage simply stopping him in his tracks. The stab of panic was dulled from the dregs of poison still coursing through his veins, but it was enough to have his heart flutter. What weapon could he call with such a tenuous tether to the stars? What could he use with only one steady hand? What could-
His thoughts were interrupted by an unearthly snarl behind him, his wolverine's patience gone at last. But it wasn't a hulking, ferocious over-sized wolverine that came bounding past him. It was a Vastaya, humanoid but still beastly, purple and burgundy and tan and massive .
Aphelios watched in shock, face no doubt mirrored by the stunned Solari hunters, wide eyed and mouth hanging, as the Vastaya ran past in a flurry of fur and claws. Their surprise was short-lived, as the wolverine Vastaya swung with sharp crampons several inches in length, tinged in filamentous gold magic, slicing through their armor with ease. They didn't stand a chance, and after only a moment, the Vastaya stood panting and huffing, surrounded by dead Solari.
And then he turned, all prior anger and bloodlust gone in the wake of uncertainty. Rounded furry ears lay flat against his burgundy red hair, amber eyes meeting Aphelios' with trepidation. He was a size larger than Aphelios, corded with muscles and glowing gold magic, and yet he stooped and curled in on himself as if worried about what Aphelios would do. Even though all he could do was gawk stupidly.
He knew his wolverine wasn't normal.
His wolverine was huge, as big as one of the mountain dogs, and was eerily smart. Hells, his wolverine could understand some of Aphelios' hand speak. Not to mention… the hazy dream-like memory of a gentle, rough voice whispering impossibly sweet things to him, clawed fingers wiping the tears from his cheeks. But still seeing his adorable, fluffy, feisty companion's true form was jarring.
Not to say the Vastaya in front of him wasn't fluffy and adorable…
Aphelios slid down the trunk of the tree as the wolverine Vastaya yelped with alarm and rushed over. His legs hurt but mostly- Aphelios laughed breathily, as much as his ruined throat could manage, confusing the wolverine Vastaya's concern away. The Vastaya was kneeling in front of him, close enough to touch, and so Aphelios did, reaching up to cup a hand against the Vastaya's cheek, brushing his ear. That all too familiar rumbling purr picked up, bushy red and violet tail beginning to swish and a shiver. There was still some hesitancy, as if Aphelios would suddenly turn him away. He simply scratched his fingers, the way his wolverine loved, smiling because it still made his dear companion melt.
"Name?" His voice was cracked and rough from disuse and poison, softened to a whisper.
The Vastaya's reply wasn't much better sounding. "Sett."
A perfect match to the voice in his dream. Aphelios hummed, fingers tracing a scar along Sett's cheek, a mirror to the one on his muzzle. "Sett."
That fluffy tail went wild, wiggling excitedly as Sett eagerly leaned into Aphelios' touch, grin wide and sharp. No matter which form his dear wolverine took, he'd still have all of Aphelios' heart.